


Past Life

by SocialMoth



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Family Feels, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Shipping If You Squint, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialMoth/pseuds/SocialMoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jack," Tooth called, with the openness of a close friend and the quiet authority of a mother. His eyes snapped up to her, and they lacked their usual shine. "What's wrong?"</p><p>He wanted to tell her, she could see: his brow lifted in a silent plea, eyes briefly widening so maybe she could see inside to what troubled him, so he wouldn't have to say it himself. But as quickly as a blink the look vanished, and he shook his head, forcing his lips to turn upward. "Nothing, Tooth. I'm peachy."</p><p>There was really nothing else for it. "I didn't want to pry, Jack. But it's about your memories, isn't it?"</p><p>--</p><p>This work is my intellectual property. I do not give you or anyone else permission to offer my works for download.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Life

**Author's Note:**

> October 2013
> 
> Written during another slow hour at work. Entered Development Hell. Finally approved for posting.
> 
> Also a character study/head-canon establishing thing. (I'm just about to read "Toothiana: Queen of the Tooth Fairy Armies"!)
> 
> I do ship Rainbow Snowcone, but I don't think it's really present here (not any more than it is in the movie, anyway), so if that's not your cup of tea, please don't let it turn you off from reading. (Of course it is your choice whether you stay.)
> 
> Without further ado... Please enjoy!
> 
> \--
> 
> This work is my intellectual property. I do not give you or anyone else permission to offer my works for download.

_"We were all someone, before we were chosen."_

–

Sometimes, when Jack visited, he would ask Tooth if he could look at his baby teeth again.

Smiling sweetly, she always obliged, and a few fairies flitted up in moments with the gold box. "Be careful," she cautioned. Jack thanked her with a muted grin, reassuring her that he would before disappearing. A few hours later he would return with the box, its colored jade tiles shining as vividly as before, the stylized portrait of a fully human Jack unfaltering in his mischievous smirk.

Tooth might have been concerned that Jack had such an interest in viewing his memories over again, but his premolars and bicuspids always came back to her in such pristine shape, and he always thanked her so brightly, that she did not indulge her curiosity. Jack Frost was always welcome to her palace, and she wanted him to _feel_ welcome.

But then one day, something about the way Jack returned the tooth box to its shelf, his eyes cast into the distance and mouth set neutral on the side of sad, snatched Tooth's attention and she lost track of where that right incisor was supposed to be mid-sentence. Her anticipating fairies clustered worriedly. Jack stepped onto the Wind, vanishing from view. Chittering fairies drew Tooth back to herself, clearing her throat and resuming her rapid-fire instruction. But she knew, and her fairies knew, too: something had changed.

–

When a child needed to remember something important, Tooth or one of her fairies rekindled that memory with a simple touch. Often that little recollection alone did enough to bring back hope, renew dreams, encourage wonder. Inspire fun.

No one Guardian was mutually exclusive to the others – they were all strongest together.

Now, Tooth feared Jack was drifting.

She took special care, now, to check in on the youngest Guardian. Baby Tooth often went with him when he borrowed his memories anyway, and so it was easy to check in on him that way. Baby Tooth reported that all Jack ever did was sit on a thick tree bough, leaned against the trunk, while he watched his memories from his childhood, his time as a human, again and again. For hours.

Tooth's lips pursed in worry when Jack couldn't see. Now, she could dig past the easy grin to the dimmed light in his eyes and the weariness in his posture. Whatever Jack wanted from revisiting his childhood, he wasn't getting it. And Tooth could see the strain taking its toll.

Under the wrong circumstances, even the best memories could turn bad.

–

Tooth did not snoop into the memories she collected, on principle. Beyond the glimpses she couldn't help getting from first handling a lost baby tooth – usually what specifically led to its loss – it did not sit well on her conscience to see what more lay beneath the surface. When a child needed their faith restored, the tooth fairy touch acted more like a catalyst – the child saw whatever she needed to see, and the fairy wouldn't know anything about it.

Tooth did not know Jack's life story exactly for this reason. She knew virtually nothing about his time as a human, and little about his life as Jack Frost, to boot. Of course, she wanted to know everything he'd see and experienced, because that was part of her curious nature. She was a professional, though, and had no right to learn for herself what Jack might not want her to know.

If Jack wanted to talk to her about it, he would.

Right?

–

Jack did not visit for several weeks. That was nothing unusual in itself; Jack was at least as nomadic as Sandy, and the demands on his powers varied by the month.

He usually visited with a fresh face and light on his feet, teeth positively sparkling. When he finally appeared at her doorstep, though, Tooth stilled as if by instinct, staring. Jack didn't look exactly tired, but something about his squint against the sunlight reflecting off the polished mosaic flooring gave a balefulness to his appearance, like he dreaded the fact he was even here.

"Jack," Tooth called, with the openness of a close friend and the quiet authority of a mother. His eyes snapped up to her, and they lacked their usual shine. "What's wrong?"

He wanted to tell her, she could see: his brow lifted in a silent plea, eyes briefly widening so maybe she could see inside to what troubled him, so he wouldn't have to say it himself. But as quickly as a blink the look vanished, and he shook his head, forcing his lips to turn upward. "Nothing, Tooth. I'm peachy."

Baby Tooth was already way ahead of her, burrowing under his ashy bangs to feel his forehead – apparently as cold as ever. "I'm not sick, Baby Tooth," Jack supplemented, "Just..."

"Just what, Jack?" There was really nothing else for it. "I didn't want to pry, Jack. But it's about your memories, isn't it?"

After a few tense seconds, he nodded, shoulders slumping. Tooth sighed sympathetically and hovered closer to him. He leaned away from her approach, still not used to proximity, and she stopped short. He took a half-step back to reestablish their distance, but he looked at her. That was promising. "I'm going to be blunt with you. No one's ever asked me if they could look at their memories before you did. I only allowed it because you had been so happy to get your memories back at first, and I didn't believe any harm could come of it. Normally, no one has access to their own memories, and when I induce memory recall, it's because belief in the good is fading. So you see, your request was unprecedented. Do you follow?

At Jack's nod, she continued.

"The more you asked to see your memories again, though, the more I began to think it wasn't a good idea to let you. You needed your memories back to understand who you are, and find closure about who you were. Is that right?" Another nod. "You shouldn't have needed to be reminded what was important again, for a very long time. But you needed to pore over them again, and over time, it seemed to help you less and less."

Jack turned his eyes down and away from her, now, biting his lip. "You're hurting yourself, Jack, by doing this. And I want to help you, but I can't until I know _why_ you're doing this."

Silence hung between them for a long time. The only sounds were the buzz of fairy wings and the hints of their bated breath. Jack distractedly twirled his staff between his fingers a few times, watching the crook rotate on its axis.

"It's..." he tried, then let out a sigh, "I'm not sure if I can explain it."

"Try," Tooth implored, her frown deeper. Jack turned sad blue eyes upon her and it took everything in her not to rush him into a hug. He didn't want that right now. "You're looking for something in those memories, Jack. That's why you keep asking to see them, right?"

He nodded, eyes clouded by the thoughts whirling through his mind. "I _know_ it's me. I can remember _everything_ from before I was Jack Frost, now. Seeing my memories that one time... feels like it opened everything up in my head. Like unlocking a treasure chest, you know?"

Tooth nodded, gently encouraging him to continue with prompting hands.

"But..." here he became uncertain again, brow furrowing as he sought the words. "At the same time... It doesn't _feel_ like me. Sometimes it feels like that's an imposter. That couldn't have been me, saving my sister. The me in my memories... That's not who I am."

"Oh, Jack," Tooth sighed, drifting forward. This time, Jack did not retreat. "I think I know. It's how much you've changed that bothers you, isn't it?"

The young Guardian nodded, jaw tight. At length he spoke again voice straining against emotion. "And the worst part is, I'm not sure who I would rather be."

A chill that had nothing to do with Jack's wintery nature ran down Tooth's spine – surely Jack did not _dislike_ himself? Not after everything that had happened – recovering his memories, discovering who he was, embracing his identity as a Guardian, and finally getting his first believers? What more could he want after finally achieving everything he deserved? "Jack," she began carefully; her worry must have colored her words too strongly, because Jack shied away from her hand on his shoulder. "I don't think I understand."

"I told you it was hard to explain," he said, not making any eye contact with her anymore. He made like he was about to fly away, but Baby Tooth flew up into his face and pleaded in her small voice for him to stay, please let them help. Wilting in his resolve to escape, Jack nodded solemnly, and quietly let Tooth Fairy guide him to her living area. He sat very still on a lushly patterned dining chair while she bustled in her kitchen, frothing cream and heating water.

"Do you mind hot tea, Jack? Should I cool it down for you?"

Jack smiled openly at her hospitality. "I can do that myself, Tooth. You don't need to go to the trouble."

In a few minutes, Tooth set a mug of deeply-colored amber liquid in front of him. She placed the pitcher of foamy cream between them to add as desired, as well as a bowl of thick, dark honey. True to his word, Jack held his steaming mug between his palms until it faded to lukewarm and comfortable for him to drink. Tooth watched him from across the table, eyes overbright in her curiosity and concern. Jack tried to ignore the pressure of her inquiring gaze, knowing that all she wanted to do was help. there was no need for him to be scared that _any_ of what he had to see would be held against him.

Not that this reassuring thought actually worked to settle his nerves...

Tooth broke the silence. "Jack," she opened, "I'd like for you to tell me about _you_. About your memories. Can you do that?"

Jack started a little in his seat. "You don't know already?"

Her wings twitched a bit and she looked at once proud at her professionalism and embarrassed at her ignorance. "Tooth Fairy honor code. It's not proper conduct to go snooping through memories more than absolutely necessary, you understand?"

After he nodded, Jack opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, and finally began. He told her about a boy who didn't grow up as fast as his peers. This boy continued catching butterflies and grasshoppers with his young sister while his best friends where falling in love and asking a father's permission to marry his daughter. This boy carried his sister when she was too tired to finish the walk home, and he told her stories when she was sick or couldn't sleep. A boy admonished by his mother for being all play and no work, even though a smile always lit her weary eyes that her eldest remained a child at heart.

A boy who put his own safety – his own _life_ – aside to protect someone he loved.

Tooths eyes welled the deeper Jack engrossed himself in his story; Jack's did, too, though, no tears fell. Baby Tooth sat against his hands still grasping the mug of tea. She silently patted his pale knuckles when he had to pause his narrative to recompose himself. At last, Jack fell silent, barely able to finish describing the end of his human life – plummeting through thin ice, his sister's horrified scream reverberating in his ears.

Tooth knew that Jack hadn't always seen it through tears. In the battle against Pitch Black, that same memory – and the realization that Jack had _always_ been a guardian, for saving his beloved sister – had been exactly the impetus to bring him back to the field, enabling them to defeat Pitch and his nightmares. Those memories had grounded him in something real and important and _meaningful_. And for a while, those memories had made him _happy_.

But right now, those same memories only made him sad.

Jack stayed quiet for a long moment while Tooth reflected, hands clasped in front of her lips. He stared at the half-empty mug before him, long ago grown cold from his touch. Baby Tooth sat on his hood, now, murmuring something in his ear that he may or may not have understood.

"How is any of that different from who you are, now?" Tooth finally asked, gently smiling. Jack looked up, eyes wide. "The Jack of that time is still in _you,_ Jack Frost. It's just an inner layer. Who you are now, is built on that foundation."

"Look at your center, how much kids love what you do, for _them._ And when you fought Pitch..." Her breath hitched; they would all be lost without him. "You haven't changed as much as you think you have, Jack."

"Do you think so?"

She nodded. He still looked sorrowful, though – in mourning, even.

"But the me back then... I didn't worry so much. I didn't know _anything_ about how the world works, I-"

"I _know_ , Jack. I've been there, too." She smiled understandingly at him, though her eyes were sad. "We all were naïve, once. It's part of growing up. Well," she checked herself, "It's part of growing older, anyway. To have the wool pulled from our eyes. You would have experienced it in your human life, Jack."

He nodded, comprehending. His forehead remained creased. He looked about to cry again.

It dawned on her. "Do you regret?"

Taken aback, he shook his head, but his mouth stayed a tight line. Studying him carefully, Tooth tried a different angle.

"Do you miss who you were?"

The dam broke at last and silent tears poured down his face. "I feel sorry for him," he finally uttered, so quiet she barely heard him. "For what... He doesn't know he's going to become me. What he has to go through, all the..." He looked about to cut and run, ashamed of his grief; but he stayed and continued, face deepening in color the more he felt like he was digging himself deeper into a hole. "All the loneliness, and anger, and spitefulness. He doesn't know he has to go through 300 years of thinking nobody likes him, that he'll never be believed in, before things finally turn around."

Guilt weighed heavily on Tooth's shoulders, though she knew Jack did not mean to convict her. She had never seen the frost spirit associating with anyone, but she had always assumed that Jack Frost was a solitary personality; it seemed fitting of a winter being. And she had always been too caught up in her work to spare time for anyone else but the other Guardians on official business, anyway. The other Guardians had similar stories regarding Jack Frost, but it was too late to change that.

"I'm sorry," she said. What else could she say? Nothing came to mind that would actually make it better. Jack sniffed reproachfully – an ingrained response that he couldn't help by now, and he quickly apologized for it.

"It's not your fault. You didn't know. And we can't do anything about it now. I wish I could, though..." He became pensive, continuing to stare at the amber tea between his hands, now sprouting ice crystals. "But I can't. And..."

"And... that's why your memories are hurting. You don't like what comes next, but you keep reminding yourself. Right?" He nodded. "Jack," Tooth said, rising from her chair to move closer to him. She sat on the edge of the table, and he looked up at her. Smiling sadly, she smoothed his hair back from his forehead – just as his mother had, though she did not know. Jack leaned into her touch subconsciously, eyelids fluttering at the pleasant memories. "It doesn't do for any of us to dwell in the past. You've learned what you needed to know from them, I think. And, I think..." she looked him very carefully in the eye, "It's time to let Jackson and Emma _go_."

Stricken, Jack couldn't say anything for several seconds. Then his eyes all at once shone too brightly and he leaned forward, burying his head in her lap and quivering with effort. Her hand found its way between his tense shoulder blades and rubbed small, soothing circles. And that was all it took; his crying muffled in her feathers, but the way he shook against her told her how much he'd _needed_ someone to say that – to confirm what he'd been too scared to admit for himself.

The person he was before the Man in the Moon called him out of the lake in Burgess, Pennsylvania, did not exist anymore. The time of mourning was long gone. His sister was gone, too. And so was everyone he knew in that time. And it was sad, she agreed. She had towers to archive the teeth of children who had grown up and died; half-empty boxes of children who never made it to adulthood at all. She didn't like to go to those towers, didn't like to think about those teeth, but the memories inside were too important to just destroy.

She explained this to Jack without thinking too much about it – his teeth were stored in one of those towers, after all. "Jackson and Emma are kind of the same way," she mused carefully, trying to help Jack reframe the situation. "Maybe you shouldn't think about them very much anymore, because it upsets you. But there is no reason you should try to forget, either. They are important, and they're a part of who you are. And, when the time is right, the memories will be happy again, and just the thing you need. Like the first time you saw them. Do you understand?"

Jack nodded into her leg, breath coming more evenly now. He started to sit up, but apparently decided he couldn't manage it quite yet, and he instead folded his hands on her lap, resting his head back down. She continued rubbing the small circles between his shoulder blades; it seemed to help.

"Your memories will still be here, Jack, any time you want to look at them. However," she said, her change in tone drawing his reddened eyes up to her, "I think I should let you know that I will be exercising my best judgment from now on. I don't want this to happen again, okay? Not like this." At his concerned look, she continued, "You can come to me any time you want to talk, Jack. I will always have time for you. Just say the word. My fairies can handle themselves if I need to take care of you for a few hours," she assured him, looking to Baby Tooth for confirmation. The little fairy proudly puffed her feathers, squeaking agreement. A watery smile made its way onto Jack's face, and he pushed himself upright again at last. "Okay?" Tooth asked, feeling that things had turned around; Jack's eyes were red-rimmed and too bright from crying, but he looked better despite all that. Not exactly happy, but perhaps optimistic. He nodded again, brushing his sleeves across his eyes and cheeks.

"Okay," he said on a sigh." Alright. Thanks, Tooth." And there were those perfect teeth shining like fresh snow, and Tooth nearly melted on the spot. She slid forward off the table and leaned down to hug him, pulling him tightly against her.

"Oh, Jack, any time. I mean it; come talk to me whenever you need to."

And his arms wrapped around her in return and he pressed his face into her shoulder, bashful at how much she cared. "Okay, I will. I promise."

–

Tooth carefully slid the box of Jack Frost's memories into its slot. The brown-haired, brown-eyed portrait smirked up at her, so like the playful winter spirit she knew now.

Jack had left moments ago, thanking her again for her time and reassuring her that he wouldn't keep his melancholy bottled up inside anymore, knowing that he had someone so understanding to talk to. His confidence in her made her feel like she was glowing.

She was still sad for Jack; he really had been alone for 300 years – those same 300 years (and then some) that Tooth had gone through basically locked in her palace, rather than exploring in the field. It was a different kind of isolation, but thinking about it, she could begin to see where Jack was coming from.

Tooth wished she could change the past – all the Guardians did, now – to one where Jack was included and not pushed aside, forgotten about. But it was too late.

Those memories, were like the memories in this box. Without them, none of the Guardians would be who they were; they wouldn't embrace each other as they did now.

Without Jack finally coming into their lives when he did, they never would have remembered exactly what they stood for, in time to protect _who_ they stood for.

So; really, Tooth couldn't want things any other way.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's floated over here from "Vanishing Winter," does this somewhat help your feelings hurt less, or did I just give you more of them? I sowwy. ;_; /shameless plug
> 
> I'm not sure if I quite accomplished what I initially intended to do with this, but I think I'm happy with where it ended up.
> 
> Thank you for stopping by. Take care!


End file.
